


A Trip to the Forest

by WakeupSoon



Series: Of Spells and Rights [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-01
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-13 15:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/825830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WakeupSoon/pseuds/WakeupSoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trips to the forbidden forest are regular occurrences for some people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Trip to the Forest

There’s a howl of anguish from near the edge of the forbidden forest, followed by the sound of three teenage boys getting the fuck out of there and onto the safety of the castle grounds whilst they still can.

They trip and stumble as they head towards the light, and don’t even slow down once there’s only grass on their feet compared to the rough terrain they had just experienced. They carry on full pelt into the castle, laughing as they go. Bossuet feels exhilarated: the thrill coursing through his veins right now is something he rarely gets to experience. Added to that the fact he only tripped once (and the others had him up and running again before he could even blink) and their trip was successful? He’d never felt more alive.

“Does it always feel like this?” He found himself asking. They were practically skipping up the main staircase by then, finally slowing as they turned to make their way up to the classroom on the 5th floor their group had commandeered as a meeting ground.

The other two boys just looked at each other, grinning somewhat mentally.

“Yep.”

“Pretty much.”

They’re walking now, only several doors away from their destination. Neither of them are even remotely out of breath and it pisses Bossuet off as he realises he’s panting slightly. Bloody athletes.

He’s clutching his prize tightly in his palm, sweating slightly both from nerves and the recent excursion. He’s not entirely sure how well this gift is going to be received, but he knows it’ll help and only stubbornness will be against him.

That and, y’know, students aren’t exactly allowed to take random walks in the forbidden forest, no matter how often they all know Grantaire and Bahorel pay visits to it. It was why he’d come to them with this plan in the first place: to use their knowledge of the unknown-to-him landscape.

“Its usually best to run out making as much noise as possible, anyway,” Grantaire tells him as he pushes open the door to ‘their’ classroom, where apparently everybody has already convened for the evening.

Bossuet follows him in, tugging his jacket off and adding it to the ones on the hooks by the door, “Dare I ask why?”

“So all the creatures who were watching you know you’ve left.”

The voice is low and dark in his ear. It belongs to Bahorel, and Bossuet lets out an involuntary shiver (and a slight squeal he will deny forever when questioned). The guy can be creepy as fuck when he wants to be, and oh he definitely wanted to be then. Bossuet hadn’t even been 100% sure he’d followed them in, and he definitely hadn’t realised he was that close him.

The two Hufflepuff beaters immediately grin and high five over this reaction, and if they didn’t know it before the entire room definitely know they’re there now.

For Grantaire and Bahorel to be this late was a regular occurrence, and it showed in the way they entered the fray. Grantaire, having already stowed his jacket and toed off his shoes (no one really knows why, but he likes to be barefoot where he can be), takes a swig of whatever is in his flask today (usually some self-made concoction of herbal butterbeer) before strolling over to his usual spot. The seat offers a direct view of the leader of the group, at enough of a distance that he’s not included in every discussion automatically, but certainly can be if he chooses so. If he wanted to, he could stand right by Enjolras. Its an option he does sometimes take, but everyone’s noticed that’s only on the days he is for some reason there early, without Bahorel, and with only the Slytherin for company..

Bahorel, today, doesn’t immediately follow his best friend. Normally he would be right behind him, stealing some of his flask and pointing out things for Grantaire to sketch, but Bossuet is hovering and kind of staring into space. So, Bahorel waits. Bossuet’s eyes are flickering around the room, and he knows the person he really wanted to see isn’t there. Which isn’t too surprising given that its only two days before the next full moon, but he had hoped to see his boyfriend.

He glances at Combeferre in askance.

“He’s tired. Thought it best for an early night,” Combeferre doesn’t need to hear the words to know what Bossuet wants, “This one’s going to hit him hard.”

Bossuet looks down at the vial in his hand, he doesn’t really understand how it works, but Bahorel knows his stuff. If he said the weeds will help the transformation, they will, and he’s more than willing to take a trip into the forbidden forest every month to retrieve it, too.

From the look on Combeferre’s face, he knows exactly what it is as Bossuet places the vial firmly in his hand. It could just be an old wives’ tale, but its been years, decades even, since anyone’s recorded trying it. Experiments are good.

“I’d, erm, come up to Ravenclaw tower myself but..” he coughs, and smirks a little, “Yeah. Got caught last time. Maybe its better this way, though. I can’t get shouted at for going out with those goons, and Merlin knows he won’t take it out on you.”

Combeferre smiles knowingly before responding, “You’re probably right on that point. I’ll pass it along. And do some research with him for how best to utilise it. Some sources say it works best in potions, so I’ll-“

“No way!” Bahorel scoffs, jumping in on this, “No more ingredients needed, just soften it in some water to form a paste and wrap it ‘round the joints. Honestly. Ravenclaw’s think they know everything!”

“And Hufflepuff’s think they’re the law when it comes to Herbology - but they’re not!” No one even knows where Jehan came from, but his hair is tinted red at the tips, an involuntary reaction for the metamorphmagus whenever he has a point to make, “He just needs to chew it, kind of like gum. Give it to him an hour before sunset and he’ll b-“

“That’s sounds like something my grandmother would suggest.”

And on it goes, Bossuet shrinking away easily to let them fight it out. Instead, he makes his way to the rest of the group. If he can’t spend some time with his boyfriend tonight, he’ll spend as much as he can with his friends from other houses before curfew forces them to go their separate ways.

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this on my tumblr like 3 weeks ago but totally forgot about AO3~ I have loads of opinions on this AU as well as the idea of Les Amis at Hogwarts in general so feel free to message me if you want to know any more. (my URL is gavrochesmammy)


End file.
